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ALICK MA^' DOl'CiLAS. 



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NOV v? 1888 



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TIMES PRESS, liATH, MAINE. 



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INDEX 

NATt'RES COXFKSSION OF GOD 5 

A STORY OF SI.AVICRY 6 

t;oi) CAN TFRX IT INTO GOLD 9 

FROST PICTIRKS lo 

SNOW FLAKES n 

THE ANGF;L AND THE CHILD 12 

WEDDINOr BELLS 13 

THE COHBLER AND HIS GIFT 16 

LIFE IN THE COUNTRY 17 

THROWING KISSES TO GOD 20 

SHALL we:" 22 

I'RAISE ON EARTH 22 






COPVklC.HTHI) iS^S UY AI.ICI^ MAY DOl'CLAS. 



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NATURE'S CONFESSION OF GOD. 

npPIEE, God, all nature cloth confess ; 

To thine all-seeing eye 
Her forms assume a loveliness, 

Her tones ascend on high, 
And, blending in one perfect song, 
Delight thee and thy angel throng. 

The broad, bkie desert overhead, 
Where planet pilgrims stra}-. 

The moon's soft light so gently shed, 
The winds that thee obey. 

Clouds, pearly showers and hurricanes, 

All tell that God in wisdom reigns. 

The sun, that thy great ]:)ower shows forth. 

The sunshine, like thy love. 
The atmosphere, that broods o'er earth 

As broods thy peace above, 
Life-giving, boundless, pure and free — 
These all confess thy sovereignty. 

Ocean, with myriad waves that kneel 

Upon her thousand shores. 
With isles like dulcet notes that steal 

Into her song, adores 
Thy name and chants incessanth', 
Or thunders forth her praise to thee. 



PHLOX. 

The aged mountains, forest-clad, 
Broad plains Avitli bounty blest. 

Calm lakes, brooks, silver-tongued and glad, 
lUvers that never rest, 

With earth's ten thousand birds proclaim 

The glory of thy wondrous name. 



A STORY OF SLAVERY. 

*" I ^HE golden sun ere setting shone forth through 

-*- clouds of white, 
To cast on the spring-clad earth its last mellow rays 

of light ; 
And they fell ou a small brown cottage in New 

England's rugged wood, 
Where half hid in the vine-draped doorway, a little 

maiden stood. 
She had come to the cottage door tired of her lessons 

and play. 
To wait her father's return from the mill where he 

worked all day ; 
When a uegress rushed down the road and stopped 

by the side of the child. 
Her dress was badly tattered, her face looked strange 

and wild. 
She asked, "Can j'ou hide me, save me, for the dogs^ 

are on my track, 
Eager to tear my flesh and drive me madly back ; 



PHLOX. 7 

Back to the toil and dradge of the dreary old plan- 
tation, 
All, child, you know but little of a poor slave's lowly 

station. 
They've chased me night and day throagh swamps 

and through fertile fields, 
Where the beautiful waving grain to the reaper's 

sickle yields ; 
And I wished that I might yield to the welcome 

reaper, death, 
But still with all life's miseries I sometimes love my 

breath ; 
And if you could but hide me in some safe place 

near by, 
The dogs might lose my track, if not, I must yield or 

die. 

The slave's story was ended ; the little country child 
Had ne'er seen sight so pitiful, heard tale so strange 

and wild ; 
The tears unheeded fell down her little innocent 

face. 
As she said, "Con:ie, follow me, vv'e'll find a hiding 

place, 
'Tis an old hollow oak, near it I often play, 
In playing hide and seek, I've hid there many a day." 
Then she led the weary negress to an old hollow oak, 
And only the slave's low moan the couutr}^ stillness 

broke. 
The tree, so large and tall, well held the slave's slight 

form. 



8 PHLOX. 

Aud slie thanked God for this slielter when the little 
child had gone. 

The maiden again was standing as she had stood 

before, 
When a rough and angry horseman stopped his horse 

at the cottage door ; 
In accents loud he asked, "Have jou seen a slave 

today, 
A tall and slender negress, has she not passed this 

way ? 
I've nearly lost her track for my nol)le bloodhounds 

fell^ 
While stopping on the wav to drink from a poisoned 

well." 

Again the tear drops glistened in the little maiden's 

eje, 
What could she, should she say? she could not tell 

a lie. 
"Come, tell me, have you seen her?" he poured his 

harsh words forth. 
But at sight of her tears he grew calm, for he 

thought of his child in the South. 

The honest child replied, "I've hid her awa}' from 

you, 
For my father says 3"ou men buy slaves and sell 

them too;" 
Then shaking the cents from her bank, she counted 

twenty and one. 
Really thinking she could purchase the slave with 

this small sum ; 



PHLOX. 9 

So she passed them to him and said, "Now, the 
shive's my own, 

She'll never be treated again like a dog in a south- 
erner's home." 

The cruel man was touched by what she did and 

said. 
And glancing at the maiden, he turned his horse's 

head, 
Saying, "Keep the slave, my child, and also keep 

your pay, 
You've given me more than money by the words 

you've said today." 
And he started for his home to live a better man, 
While the child with the joyous news to the anxious 

neo-ress ran. 



"GOD CAN TURN IT INTO GOLD, 

ii'T^HIS cent for God is truly gohl, 

My bestest cent," cried baby Lu. 
"Oh, no, the mission cent you hold 
Just loolxS like gold," said sister Sue. 

"O, that's too bad !" Lulu replied, 
But back the gates of sunHglit rolled 

As gleefully the darling cried, 

"But God can turn it into gold." 



) PHLOX. 

All, babe, you're wiser than us all ; 

How great the truth tlint 30U uiifol.l ! 
The widow's mite, however small, 

Our God can turn it into gold. 

The weakest prayer that's raised toward heaven. 

The smallest deed or sacrifice. 
If these are all that can be given, 

Thev will be golden to God's eves. 



FROST PICTURES. 

OEAUTIFUL pictures every morn, 

Are sketched, my window pane, upon. 

By some magic artist with careless hand. 
Some one escaped from fairy land. 

Mountain and valley, hill and plain, 
Forest and lake and fields of grain, 

Streams that clear as crystal flow. 
Marble ruins and falling snow, 

Cities where tinj^ church spires rise, 
White winged birds and starry skies, 

Elves and flowers and fallen trees. 
Icebergs floating in polar seas, 

AVhite ships tossed by ocean waves, 
Slender sea-weeds and coral caves. 



PHLOX. 

And countless thiuf:^s I cannot name, 
Are starred upon mj window pane. 

As the rising sun's soft, silvery liglit 
Illumes my pictures pure and white, 

More beautiful still to me they seem, 
Then fade away like a summer dream. 

To dawn again, but never the same 

As they were this morn on my windoAV pane. 



SNOWFLAKES. 

TN numberless crowds we flock from the clouds ; 

By man}' a breeze we're whirled : 
Though each a speck, together we deck 
In a bridal robe, the world. 

We caper and skip and phiyfnlly trip, 

Each lighter than any feather ; 
We frolic and glide and on the winds ride, 

And have fine times together. 

Little fairies are we dancing merrily. 

In the great, broad fields of air, 
Till tired of our fun, to the earth we come. 

Lighting any and everywhere. 

On the trees we light, till they blossom in white, 

We paint each house anew. 
We carpet the fields, and everything yields 

To the mncic work we do. 



PHLOX. 



And we cover the flowers asleep iu their bowers, 

With a white and spotless spread, 
To keep them warm and safe from the storm, 

Till Spring bids each raise its head. 



THE ANGEL AND THE CHILD. 

A N angel came to earth one day 
'^ To bear a little child away, 

In fields of light to dwell. 
The watching friends no sound could hear. 
None thought an angel was so near, 

None felt the heavenly spell 

The angel shed upon the child, 
As ling' ring by the sight beguiled, 

He scanned the little face. 
"Sweet babe, I'll take thee to ray breast. 
Ere sorrow's known, I'll give thee rest. 

Come to a better place. 

"But no, heaven has enocgh like thee. 
Earth needs thy love and purity. 

Here longer must thou stay." 
Thus wdiispered low the heavenly guest, 
A kiss upon the child he pressed, 

Then soared in light av>-ay. 



PHLOX. 13 

Maid, half of earth and half of heaven, 
To whom a second birth was given, 

Sealed by the angel's kiss ; 
Tiiyself an angel since that day 
Min'string o'er the earth dost stra}^ 
Spirit of heavenly bliss. 

And only those Avho dwell above 
Know whence thy many deeds of love ; 

It is not even thine 
To know what makes th}- life so bright, 
Why thou dost walk in heaven's own light, 

Or whence this peace divine. 



WEDDING BELLS. 

To Eev. and Mrs. J. M. Buffum on their Marriage 
Day, June 28, 1887, Lewiston, Maine. 

JUNE, fair bride of all the year, 
Shy and winsome June is here, 
June, with all her wealth of roses, 
Sweet the secrets she discloses ; 
One with you doth richly dwell, 
One you've heard and heeded well. 
Clouds their daintiest pink now wear, 
Flowers are blushing everywhere. 
Clouds reflect the sunset's hue. 
Shouldn't brides be blushing too? 



14 PHLOX. 

Now's tlie time for wedcliug bells, 
Merril}^ their music swells, 
Softly pealing, gently stealing. 
In each note what sweetness dwells, 
Each a separate joy revealing, 
Happy wedding bells ! 

Dearest friends, we've gathered here 
With kindly greetings and good cheer 
Here our friendship we'd renew, 
Here pledge stronger love to you. 
Our congratulations take, 
With best wishes which we make 
That your days be all like this, 
Each a wedding day in bliss. 
From our hearts such gifts are given. 
And they will keep bright for heaven; 
Echo, bells, from each fond breast, 
What our worJs have ne'er expressed. 
Bells repeating nil our greeting, 
Ah, your meaning can be guessed, 
For our hearts with ^ou are beating. 
Joyous wedding bells ! 

Wedding gifts doth nature add 
For she too would make you glad ; 
Hers are stores of sunny hours. 
Smiling skies and fair-faced flowers, 
Frolic breezes, balmy air, 
Beauty Livished everywdiere, 
Birds that now to you are telling 
From each lofty, leafy dwelling. 



PHLOX. 15 

"Home life's sweet, avIio e'er denied it ? 
Home life's sweet, we know, we've tried it." 
From their happy little throats, 
To our ears each bird song floats, 
Softly blending, freely lending 
Charms to the melodious notes, 
Such deliglitful measures wending 
From the wedding bells. 

What's the future'? Do you know it, 
Wedding bells, and will you show it ? 
Na}^ 'tis only known above, 
God will deal each year in love. 
If we judge them by the ]_)resent, 
Then they will be very pleasant. 
God, by whom the birds are blest 
Every jenr with a new nest, 
If you wish it will give you 
Every year a new home too. 
Peal, gay bells, the story olden, 
While our very thimghts arc holden, 
Sympathizing, harmonizing 
With the music soft and golden, 
To such sweet perfection rising, 
Happy wedding bells ! 



1 6 PHLOX. 

THE COBBLER AND HIS GIFT. 

T TE only meiulecl shoes, few people knew his name, 
They knew not where he live.], and cared not 

whence he came ; 
None but the children knew his kind and noble heart, 
That during life's long run had bravely done its part. 
They'd gather at his home, it was a humble place. 
Whose only sunshine beamed from his bright, genial 

face ; 
And when school hours had passed, they'd flock 

about liis door 
And listen to the tales he told of days of yore. 
He'd tell them of strange siglits he'd seen in foreign 

lands, 
With bits of leather gay, he'd fill their little hands ; 
Their lessons he explained, he mended brt)ken toys, 
Their petty cares were his, and his their simple joys. 

But as the short years sped, his gre}' hair grew more 

No more to visit him the children left their play ; 
What cared they for him now? he was so changed, 

so old. 
His kind deeds were all done, his stories all were 

told. 
One little girl alone remained his constant friend, 
And to his cheerless home the sweet wild flowers 

she'd send. 
And she would visit him and read beside his bed, 
Bring water from the well and soothe lii^ aching 

head. 



PHLOX. 



17 



No summer's clay too wai-m, no winter's day too cold 

To keep her from her friend, lone, hungry, sick and 
old; 

One day he seemed more weak, and spoke in whis- 
pers low : 

"My sta^- on earth is short, I soon to heaven must go. 

I've made some shoes for you that in this box 3-oii'll 
find, 

I would the gift were more, for you have been so 
kind ;" 

And then with eager feet her gift she homeward bore, 

And many, many Aveeks the little shoes she wore. 

But when the leather rough, showed marks of con- 
stant wear, 

And she with trinkets ])la(_'ed this strange keepsake- 
with care, 

Bank notes of valued stam}) from 'neath the linin"- 
fell, 

And told the gratitude the cobbler could not tell 

To her, his constant friend, in sickness as in health,. 

Now in return repaid by all his hoarded wealth. 



LIFE IN THE COUNTRY. 
Graduating Poem, June 20, 1881. 

T7^R fi'oiii ^^lie city's rush and ceaseless noise. 
Its crowded buildings and its tiresome joys. 
The quiet country with those charms extends 
Which lavish nature in her Kindness lends ; 



1 8 THLOX. 

The fields, the groves, the pure, sun-softened air, 
The road-side brook, birds singing everywhere, 
The sweet wild flowers of various colors wrought. 
All help inspire happy and peaceful thought. 
Where naught but endless beauty one may scan. 
It almost seems that nature thinks for man. 

Here pleasantly through fields and meadows wend 

The winding roads, o'er which the elm trees bend. 

And near these roads the neat farm houses stand. 

The brightest, happiest homes tliroughout our land ; 

Small houses they, with barns of twice their size, 

Above their roofs the lilac hedges rise, 

And old time hollyhocks sedately guard 

The other j'ounger blossoms in each yard ; 

The little rustic fence, the clean swept patli, 

The martin houses raised in kind behalf 

Of homeless birds, each adds a special charm 

To pleasant sights we see around tiie fariu. 

The farmer sees his wealth in falling rain, 

In op'ning buds and fields of golden grain ; 

He plows and sows and well kept gardens show, 

How hard the Avork he gave that they njight grow. 

He tends his herds, and 'neath the scorching sun, 

That dreaded task, the haying, must be done. 

Here, twice a 3'ear the peddler comes around 
With bargains, such as ne'er before were found ; 
A hard-faced man is he, with bony cheeks, 
His teeth are false, and every word lie s])eaks ; 
His pack is filled Avitli everything one needs, 
Soothing syrup and snuff, crimp-nets, flower seeds. 



PHLOX. 19 

Jew's harps and coinbs and bibles and dream books, 
Rattles and spectacles and fishing hooks ; 
If purchases are small he soon is gone, 
Grumbling that he has been detained so long. 

When May-day dawns with warm and spotless sky,. 
The young folks hasten to the woods near by ; 
They gather May flowers and they choose a queen, 
They raise tlie pole, they wreathe her head with green; 
With livel}' zeal do they their sports pursue, 
Each well known play seems fresh, each jest is new. 

Here is the meeting house, modest and small. 

Whose bell answered, though seldom heard by all, 

Summons to services each Sabbath day, 

The country people living miles away ; 

When church is done then one and all shake hands,. 

Discuss religion, politics and lands. 

And of their friends itiqnire with anxious care, 

How farms and poultry, herds and babies are. 

When fall appears, clad in her nut brown suit, 
And proudly blushes, gazing at her fruit. 
To rob the apple trees the people go 
Where heavy boughs Avitli golden fruit hang low; 
Then from the orchard one and all depart. 
Crowded with apples in the roomy cart ; 
The old horse, frightened at his jolly load, 
Runs through the orchard, down the rock}' road, 
Upon the hill he stops, then gives a start, 
The liarness breaks, severing himself and cart, 
And horseless down the hill the people drive, 
And at the foot are all picked up—alive. 



20 PHLOX. 

When winter in his snowj cloak returns 

And on the hearth the snapping pine log burns, 

'Tis pleasant then when all have ceased to rove, 

To gather round the good old kitchen stove ; 

All work is o'er and now a useless thing, 

The iron tea kettle has ceased to sing, 

The corn is popped, the apples passed around, 

Beechnuts are cracked, stories and jests abound, 

AVhile the old house dog in his corner lies 

Watching the merry group with blinking ejes. 

Of winter sports we find the country full, 

Sleighing, lyceums and the candy pull ; <^ 

Yet winter heavily oft drags along, ^ 

When north winds rage and howls the bleak wild 

storm. Q 

The various scenes of country life now end. 

And if by naming them some thought they lend ^ 

Whereby to make our daily tasks more blest, ^ 

We'll all agree that country life is best. 



THROWING KISSES TO GOD. 

T ITTLE Ida had gone to bed, 

Dressed in her nightgown white, 
And mamma after kissing her 
Bade her a cheerful goodnio'ht. 



PHLOX. 

Mamma then closed the door, 

Some errand outside to do, 
But before she went down stairs, 

Ida's I'oom she must go through. 

As soon as she entered it again 
She looked towards Ida's bed, 

Saw her throwing upward her kisses, 
And "I love 3'ou Dod," she said. 

"What are 3'Ou doing, my darling?" 
The mother asked in surprise ; 

As soon as the sentence was spoken 
Ida turned her large blue eyes. 

"O," Ida said, "It's Dod in heaven 

That I'm throwing kisses to, 
I'd like to do and live with him 

If it wasn't for leaving you. 

"I'd like to hug him, I Avould, mamma, 
And I'd like to see his face ;" 

And the mother listened in silence 
To this beautiful childlike grace. 

Oh, sweet, precious little Ida! 

Oh, noAv sainted little one ! 
Five Aveeks only from that evening 

The death angel bade her come. 

And her tiny, lifeless bod}^ 

Her parents saw laid 'neath the soil, 
But they knew that her little spirit 

Had gone to live with her God. 



PHLOX. 



SHALL WE? 



O HALL we let tliem die umong iis, 

Strong young men and feeble sires? 
Shall we let the wine they're quaffing 
Kindle soul-consuming tires'? 

Shall we let the children follow 
In their fatlier's erring wa}* ? 

Shall we let the awful tempter 
Seize such fair and spotless pre}'? 

Oh, the mothers that are mourning, 
Oh, the sisters and the wives, — 

Thousands of them daily weeping 
For their dear one's ruined lives ! 

If we know what is our dut}- 

Yet from doing it we shirk, 
"Will not God who showed it to us, 

Call the drunkard's fate, our work? 



PRAISE ON EARTH, 

I often think 'twill be so sweet 
To sit sometime at Jesus' feet, 
His love and praises to repeat. 

And yet 'tis just as sweet to know, 
That I my love to him may show, 
And I may praise him here below. 



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